The Kill
by LunarLotus123
Summary: Joanna Taylor, formerly Joanna Taylor-Watson but a divorce from her wife changed that rather quickly. Discharged from the military, Joanna has kept in contact with her ex brother in law John. Now she's working for Mycroft to keep some secrets in the dark. Now, her new job may bring up some old secrets that should have been left in the shadows. MycroftxOC
1. Chapter 1

_It's been_ _almost a year since Harry left...A year since she packed my things and handed me that dreaded note.  
_

_My work for Mycroft is becoming tedious, the jobs are no longer intriguing. All the good ones go to his damned brother now. Oh well, I guess I better get used to it.  
_

After jotting down the final words in her journal, a woman in her late twenties with dark burgundy hair closed the leather bound journal and stood up from her writing desk.

The room was painted a light shade of mauve with a few photos hung, mostly of scenery. A tan couch sat alongside the east wall and an oak writing desk was pushed against the west wall beside a window that overlooked the small area of London that surrounded Baker Street, home to none other than Sherlock Holmes, younger brother of Mycroft. Though she had never met him personally, the young woman had heard countless stories from Mycroft and the police force. As she gathered a few things into a briefcase, her phone began ringing and vibrating on the desk. A quick glance revealed the number to be none other than Mycroft Holmes.

She sighed and answered, "Joanna here."

"Ah, Jo, I take it you are on your way to the office?"

"Yes sir. I just had to gather a few things," she said holding her phone with her should and digging through her desk,

"Good. I have a job for you."

"You mean aside from appointment making?" Jo mutterd looking frustrated.

"Yes and if you are looking for your cigarettes, I gave them to my brother," Mycroft explained sounding a bit too proud.

"Ok and WHY would you do that sir?"  
"He was becoming insufferable and I didn't know a better way shut him up."

"Alright. I'll be at the office soon," she said before hanging up.

After tossing her phone, wallet, and a few files into her case, Jo grabbed her keys and walked out the door.

* * *

After driving across town to get to Mycroft's office, Jo paused a moment before getting out of the car.

A figure down the street had stopped in the middle of the road and just stared in her general direction.

After a few moments, Jo pushed it out of her mind and grabbed her bag before heading up the stairs of the SIS building and making a bee line for the lift.

Once inside, Jo pushed the button for the top floor, fixing her suit jacket after the doors closed.

After the bell dinged, signalling that her destination had been reached, Jo stood up straight and put her business face on.

The doors opened and she started to the end of the hall.

Just before she opened the door, her hand hovered over the knob. Someone was arguing in the office with Mycroft and Jo had a very good idea of who.

Just as she went to open the door, it flew open, knocking her to the ground with a soft thud.

Standing there was none other than Sherlock Holme's, master detective and younger brother to Mycroft Holmes.

Jo muttered something under her breath as she grabbed her briefcase and the papers that had fallen out.

"I'm sorry Ms. Taylor. I didn't know you were there," Sherlock said with a monotone attitude in his voice.

"You? Sorry? That's funny," she replied as he helped her up.

Sherlock said nothing as he started to walk away, his hand going for his coat pocket presumably for his smokes.

"Looking for these?" Jo asked holding the smokes Mycroft had taken from her to give to Sherlock.

He glared at her before storming off, leaving Jo with a feeling of victory as she entered the office, her smokes taking their spot in her left breast pocket.

As soon as she walked in, Mycroft turned and looked at her, "Glad you could come. I apologize for my brother, he heard about your new assignment."

"Wait, I'm working with him?" she asked sitting down across from Mycroft's desk.

"Not working with him. Watching him."

"Sir, with all due respect," Jo snapped standing up and placing her hands firmly on Mycroft's desk, "The two of us WON'T work out."

"It doesn't matter if you do or not...You still need to do your job," Mycroft explained standing up and walking to the door, "Now then, if you have no further questions."

"No, _sir_," Jo said grabbing her briefcase and hastily walking out the door.

"Oh, and Joanna..."

The brunette turned her head and cast a quick glance at her boss, "Yes?"

"Do TRY and keep from killing him, for my sake," the elder Holmes remarked before retiring to his office.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Returning to her flat, Jo went straight to her room to change.

After lighting a smoke, she took her suit off and went to the closet, "If it's Sherlock...I'm gonna need something simple..."

She took another drag before setting her smoke down in an ashtray sitting on her vanity.

A few minutes of searching, Jo decided on a white tee-shirt, a black zip up jacket over it with a pair of red jeans and a pair of black knee high boots.

After she got dressed again, Jo picked her smoke back up and took another drag, "Mycroft...why do you do this?"

Before leaving for her new assignment, Jo grabbed her wallet and phone from her briefcase as well as her smokes from the vanity, put them in a leather jacket she had hanging on a coat hook.

"Should I take his car," she muttered looking out the window at the car Mycroft gave her for work, "Or should I take my ride?"

A few moments later, she grabbed a set of keys from the desk and went downstairs, outside, locking the door behind her.

She then went around the corner to a small alley where a black and red Ninja 2009 motorcycle was propped up against the wall.

Mounting the bike, Jo revved it to life and sped out of the alley way and onto the main road before she started towards Baker Street.

The ride only took about 15 minutes, but once she arrived, Jo hesitated dismounting.

She hate Sherlock and he hated her, but if she didn't do this job, Mycroft held her protection over her head.

He had done a good job of keeping certain interested parties focus away from her as long as she did her jobs without question.

After a minute, Jo pushed herself to get off the bike and walk up to the door.

She rapped on the door three times, then pulled a smoke out and lit it as she waited for an answer.

Inside, Jo heard footsteps, someone with a limp, but patiently waited, taking a drag of her smoke.

"Hello," a male voice rang out as the door opened.

"Hi, I'm here to see She-John!?"

Much to her surprise, the man that had answered the door was her old friend and ex-brother in law John Watson.

"Joanna? What're you doing here?" John asked shaking her open hand.

"I'm working. And you?" Jo asked as she felt him take her hand.

"Oh, um I live here," he replied stepping aside to let her in, a can firmly grasped in his right hand, "Come on in."

"Thanks. What happened?" she asked motioning to his leg.

"Um...got shot shortly after you left," John explained leading her upstairs.

"Sorry to hear that, is Sherlock home?"

"Yeah," John replied once they reached the top of the stairs, "Just be careful...he's in a mood."

"Oh I know. We ran into each other earlier," Jo explained walking straight into the den where Sherlock was seated in front of the fireplace, his back to the rest of the room.

"Joanna Taylor, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked unmoving.

"You should know,you were at Mycroft's office today after all," Clarice replied finishing the last drag of her smoke before putting it out in the ash tray beside his chair.

Sherlock glanced at the ashtray from the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to the fireplace, "You can leave now."

"Listen," Jo said inviting herself to sit down in the chair beside his, "You don't like this anymore than I do. hell, if I had a choice, I would have told him to take this job and shove it. Seeing as how that's not really an option, all we can do is try and make the best out of this horrid situation. Understand?"

John watched them before an awkward silence set in, "I'll just go make some tea then..."

"It would seem you have a point, Joanna," Sherlock replied sounding irate.

After a few more moments, Jo turned to him, "So how've you been?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make small talk, it's not your strong suit. Besides, it's very distracting," he explained, his hands pressed together against his chin.

"Distracting? You're not even doing anything."

At that point, it was obvious what he wanted, so the young woman pulled a cigarette from her back and held it in front of his face.

A small smile crawled to the mans lips as he accepted it, "You're too kind."

Jo responded with a mocking smile, "Aren't I?"

She then lit it for him before lighting her own, "So, heard you got a new case."

"Mycroft tell you?" Sherlock asked as he inhaled deeply.

"No. The fact that you have a smoke in your hand and what looks to be a patch on your arm tells me that. I may work for Mycroft, but that doesn't mean he tells me everything," Jo replied exhaling and flicking her ash into the ashtray.

"So we have something in common after all, we both have a dislike of that man," Sherlock commented glancing over to her.

Jo raised an eyebrow, "I never sa-"

"No. Your body language told me. You were married weren't you?" he asked taking another drag.

"Yes, but how could you have possibly known that?"

"Your finger. There's a thin strip of skin paler than the rest of your hand meaning there was a ring there for a prolonged period of time. Since you don't have it on a chain around your neck, he's still alive which means you got divorced, most likely because he wasn't happy with you joining the army. The way you carry yourself proves served time, and going by your age I'm going to say either Afghanistan or Iraq, most likely Afghanistan. Your right shoulder was injured which is why you lean slightly to the left. And going by the bags under your eyes, you're prone to PTSD nightmares and haven't gotten a good nights sleep in a while, am I wrong?" Sherlock finished, looking her in the eye, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

Jo simply sat there, astonished at how accurate he was.

John had walked in as he finished and limped over, setting a hot cup of tea on the table by Jo, "You're right Sherlock...we served in the same unit together."

"Except for one thing...my WIFE left after I was honorably discharged," Jo explained flicking her ash into the tray again, "Harriet Watson..."

"Wife! There's alwa-Wait...Harriet WATSON?"

"Yes, she's also my ex sister-in-law," John replied returning with another cup of tea for Sherlock.

"So, what's up with your new case?" Jo asked changing the subject and taking a file from Sherlock's desk.

"Woman, found dead in an old building. Apparent suicide," Sherlock explained taking a sip of his tea.

"Rache? Revenge?" Jo asked looking over one of the crime scene photos.

"No, she's from Cardiff," Sherlock replied taking the file from her and closing it, "Most likely it's a name."

_Seems I struck a nerve_, Jo thought standing up and looking out the window, "What's so different about this one? Why would they call the great Sherlock Holmes to consult on suicides?"

"When a suicide isn't a suicide," Sherlock replied, a tone of resentment in his voice.

"If it's not a suicide then, how does the killer get them to take the poison?" Jo asked snatching the file back and flipping through it again.

Sherlock sighed and turned to John who simply gave him the _I'm not getting involved _look before he sat down.

"I still don't know and would you please stop touching my things?" Sherlock snapped trying to grab the file.

Jo simply sidestepped and kept reading as he kept trying to grab the file.

"Well then," Jo said finally giving it back to him, "We should get to work."

"What do you mean we?" Sherlock asked sound more irate than before.

"It's my job to keep an eye on you. You really think you're going this alone?"

* * *

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock was starting to get fed up with Joanna tailing him everywhere, "Must you follow me all day?"

"What part of 'I don't like this job any more than you do' didn't you seem to catch?" Jo snapped as he turned a corner down an alley towards a dumpster, "If I had it my way, I'd be at home with a cup of coffee and a book."

Since it was obvious he couldn't get rid of her, Sherlock simply climbed into the dumpster and began digging around.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Jo called out, just barely dodging a bag of trash.

"Her case!"

Jo stepped back and watched as he continued to rummage around, "Case? Sherlock what are you talking about?"

"Her suitcase. She had a suitcase with her when she was killed. The killer would have wanted to get rid of it quickly," he explained getting out of the dumpster and heading for the next one, "After all, what man wants to be seen with a pink suitcase?"

Sighing, Jo followed him and stood a good ways back as he began rummaging once more.

"Whose to say he threw it in a dumpster?" Jo called out before seeing a hot pink thing land at her feet.

"Her case!" Sherlock called out as he climbed from the dumpster, "With this...I may just have all the answers I need."

Seeing as how he began walking away, Jo grumbled something under her breath, grabbed the case and followed him back to the flat.

Once they got back, Jo went to make coffee while Sherlock began digging through the case.

After the coffee was ready, Jo poured a cup for him and walked over, "Find anything?"

"Nothing..." Sherlock snapped glaring at the case as he accepted the cup, "Absolutely nothing of use in here..."

"It's a start though, isn't it?" Jo asked as she went back and fixed her own cup of coffee, "I mean, this is her stuff, it can tell us something."

By the time she finished her thought, Sherlock was off in his own little world, staring off into space in thought.

Since she wasn't going to get an answer, the young burgundy haired woman began looking through the files again.

After searching for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only about three hours, Jo set the files aside and looked at Sherlock who had shifted to the couch where he was lying, staring at the ceiling.

"It's late...I'm going to head home," Jo called out, only to be greeted by silence.

Realizing she wasn't going to get an answer, Jo simply set the files down, grabbed her coat from the rack and left, pulling away from the flat on her bike.

Instead of going home though, Jo stopped at a local pub to drink some of her stress away.

She walked in and took her usual spot at the far end of the bar, "Vodka and sprite please."

The bartender nodded and left to get her drink when her mobile went off.

A quick glance revealed that this wasn't a call she could blow off, "Joanna Taylor here."

"Ah, Joanna. How are things going with Sherlock?" Mycroft asked half sarcastically.

The bartender brought her drink back and let her know it was 3p.

Jo thanked him silently then returned to her call, "Insufferable. But you knew that already didn't you sir?"

"Is it really all _**that **_bad is it?" Mycroft asked with a dry laugh.

"I can't get a word in edgewise," Jo explained before taking a drink, "He won't even let me talk to my friend John if he's in the room. Calls me dull and idiotic. Honestly sir, couldn't you have found someone else for this job?"

"Need I remind you of our arrangement?"

Jo took another drink and sighed, "No sir. Sorry."

"Aside from my brother," Mycroft said changing the subject, "How are things?"

Just as she was about to reply, a figure caught Jo's attention out of the corner of her eye.

Across the street outside, the same strange figure from earlier was standing there, watching.

"Joanna?"

"Sorry sir, it's just..." Jo started, hoping to say everything was fine, but she knew she couldn't lie to Mycroft.

"It's just?"

In a lowered voice, Jo sighed, "Sir...I think I'm being followed..."

"That's not possible," Mycroft replied, "I have worked hard to keep you off the radar."

"I understand that sir," Jo replied finishing her drink, leaving 5p on the bar and walking out, "It's just...what if someone slipped through your net? What if he's found me?"

Mycroft paused, unsure on how to handle the situation, "Listen, just go home for the night. Stay there until tomorrow when I can have someone come take a look."

"Alright. Thank you sir," Jo replied before hanging up and taking her bike home, trying her best to ignore the stranger watching her.

Upon arriving home, Jo couldn't get in fast enough.

It had been a couple hours since she left 221B Baker street, mainly because she took the back roads and long way home to ensure she wasn't followed, when her phone went off, making her jump a bit.

To her surprise, it was John ,""Hey John, everything alright?"

"Yeah...we caught him," John replied sounding a bit proud, "We're answering some questions then we're headed home."

"That's great! I can't wait to hear the rest of it. Can I call you back later? I just got home and am REALLY tired," Jo replied taking her coat off and tossing it on the couch.

"Sure thing. We'll talk later," John replied before hanging up.

With a sigh, Jo lit her last smoke, her lucky and started back to the bathroom to take a shower.

Once there, she got some hot water running as she took a drag of her smoke before putting it in the ashtray and stripping.

The water didn't take long to get hot so Jo walked in water run over her pale form.

The water was almost scalding, but Jo didn't seem to mind as she let her hair get drenched and fall over her shoulders, the scar from the knife wound she had received in the war was a bit pink.

"Oh my...that's something I haven't seen in a while."

The male voice that rang out caused Jo to freeze, her breath caught in her throat.

She slowly turned to see none other than her previous employer standing in the doorway, "J-Jim...Moriarty..."

"You still remember me? Even after working for that crummy stuffed shirt Mycroft?" the dark haired man asked smiling slightly, "I'm flattered."

* * *

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

In a fit of panic, Jo reached for her cell phone that was on the counter, only to have Jim grab her arm and force her naked wet form against the wall, "Y-You bastard..."

"Shhhh...someone like you shouldn't talk like that," Moriarty muttered pressing her wrist against her back, "I see the scar is still there..."

There was a moment of silence before Jo cried out in pain as his teeth sunk into the scar tissue, almost bringing her to her knees.

"What do you want?" she finally managed, trying to ignore the strange feeling in her stomach.

Moriarty let out a laugh and tightened his grip, pulling a cry of pain from his captive, "You know what I want Jo...your 'services' once more."

"I'm done killing," Jo snapped managing to slip from his grip and pushing him away.

It came as a shock to Jim when she fought back, but he then grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back at the wall again, "I didn't say I wanted your gun...now did I?"

Unable to respond, Jo only managed a slight choking sound as his grip tightened.

After a few seconds, he let go and watched her slump to the floor, "Poor poor girl...So lost...is this really what you want out of life?"

Jo sat there on the tile for a moment, gasping for air before looking up at Moriarty, "What makes you think I'd do that for you?"

"Because your life," Jim snapped pulling out a nine mil pistol, a silencer attached, "Is in my hands now."

It was rare for Moriarty to do anything without a trump card, even when she still worked for him, he always had a way of making her do things she would never do in her regular life.

Smirking, Jim grabbed Jo by the hair and dragged her to the bedroom before throwing her to the bed, "You know, I haven't replaced you. No one was as fun to torture as you were. All I had to do was hold Harry over your head and you would have done anything..."

"What do you have now? My life? All I ever do is follow orders, it's not like I'd be missing anything," Jo spat sitting up.

"No? Then this shouldn't make things any different..."

Before she could ask what he meant, Jim walked over and jabbed a needle in Jo's arm, a clear liquid being injected into her.

"What...what did you do," she asked managing to stand up, though her body was getting a bit heavy.

"Just something I borrowed from a friend. Don't worry. It's not a sedative. It's a temporary paralytic," Moriarty explained walking over and catching her before she fell to the ground, "Doesn't put you to sleep, just keeps you from moving around while making sure you can hear, feel, and see everything around you."

"You...basss...ta..." Jo was unable to finish her sentence by the time the drug kicked in, leaving her naked, in the arms of the man she wanted dead and at his mercy.

"See? Isn't that better?" Jim asked as he laid her on the bed.

Jo lay there, screaming internally but unable to do anything to protect herself.

"I knew you felt the same way," Jim commented with an insane laugh, "Give me a moment and I'll be right with you."

Hearing him leave the room, Jo kept trying to will her body to move but received nothing, not even her toes would move.

After what felt like an eternity, Jo heard his footsteps returning as well as his voice humming the Blue Danube.

He leaned over her to ensure she could see his face and smiled, "Shall we get started?"

Much to her surprise, he was still clothed but the sound of metal being sharpened caused her heart to begin racing.

Jim was running a rather large hunting knife over a sharpening stone, still humming a tune as he did, "What? Were you expecting sex? Pleas, I got bored of that after our second go...no...I want to leave Sherlock a message..."

_What kind of message?_ Jo thought before feeling a sharp pain in her right leg.

The blade gleaming with the oil from the whet stone, Jim ran it slowly up her leg, watching as the blood slowly trickled down her pale skin and staining the white sheets beneath her, a cold and crazy smile coming to his lips.

The pain was almost too much, but she couldn't scream, she couldn't fight back, she had to lay there and take everything he was about to do to her. She almost wished he had chosen to rape her instead.

Another cut, this time inside her left thigh, this one faster and a bit deeper.

"Your skin is so soft...it's like cutting tissue paper. I love it!" Jim snapped putting the hunting knife down and digging his thumb into the cut on her thigh, "I bet you wish you could cry out for help right now, or at least a scream of pain. We wouldn't want you scaring the neighbors now would we?"

After a moment, he removed his hand and licked her blood from it, allowing some of it to rest on his lips.

"I'd almost forgotten how you tasted..." he whispered into her ear, her blood rubbing from his lips onto her skin, "So tasty!"

Though she couldn't cry out, a single tear rolled down her cheek and landed on the pillow below her head.

Seeing this, Jim couldn't help but giggle like a schoolgirl, "Oh, now it's getting fun."

Instead of the hunting knife this time, he grabbed a scalpel from his small box on the nightstand, "You know? Scalpels don't get their dues...they're so small but so efficient..."

He looked her naked form over, from her 38D breasts to her toned stomach before making his decision on where to cut this time.

Leaning in close to her throat, Moriarty placed the scalpel against her left collarbone, pressing in hard as he dragged the blade across and down, stopping just above her right breast before making an identical incision on the other side.

Now, her chest was stained red and the sheets were getting speckled with drops of her blood.

"Such a work of art...we can't rush this now can we deary?" Jim asked placing the scalpel next to her cheek, the blade a hair away from touching.

Jo tried again to make some form of noise as the pain shot through her body, but was greeted with nothing but the sound of her shallow breathing.

Another cut, this time across her cheek towards the corner of her mouth, the blood forming a small pool along her closed lips.

"Red really suits you, you know that?" Moriarty asked taking his finger and outlining her lips in her own blood.

He left her field of vision again, but his free hand ran a trail of her blood from her chest to her netherparts, then down her leg to the dried blood on her thigh, "So much work to do!"

Again with the scalpel, this time her right hip across to the left hip, not enough to cause extreme damage, but just enough to bleed heavily.

That was enough time with the scalpel, this time Moriarty grabbed something from the bathroom but Jo couldn't see what it was.

When he returned, the unmistakable scent of a lit cigarette filled the air.

"Nasty habit, smoking," Jim commented before holding the smoke over her face to show her it was still lit, "Why pollute your body when it's already going to die?"

A second passed before a burning sensation shot through Jo's right arm, but not a quick burning pain, no, this lingered.

Jim waited until all the smoke was gone to remove the cancer stick and set it aside, revealing a small circle of black ash and red skin.

"This is what happens when you leave me...you pay the price..." Jim said matter-of-factly as he re lit the cigarette, "At least you'll leave to see tomorrow...though...not sure if you'll want to."

Once again, the burning, this time on her left arm but just as long and painful as the last.

Aside from the smell of ash, the air was now filled with the scent of burn flesh, faint but there.

Another moment of quiet, this time, Jim went back to the hunting knife, "I always imagined plunging this into your heart...watching you squirm as you drew your last breath. Cutting you though...it's much more appealing than I had imagined."

Cut after cut, her blood began pooling around her body and the smile on his face got bigger and bigger.

He paused once more, this time to flip her over, revealing her pale skin and small firm buttocks.

"I always though this was your best side," Jim commented turning her head to the side so she could breath, his right hand running down her back, stopping just above her tail bone.

Now the true panic set in, Jo could no longer see what he was doing and was still unsure if he truly meant to let her live or not.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp pain of the scalpel digging into her back, this time though, it almost felt as if he were carving a shape into her skin.

Jim chuckled as he watched the blood drip from the cuts, something about the color of blood seemed to excite him.

After he finished carving, the madman leaned down and ran his rough tongue over the biggest deepest cut, lapping up her life fluid as he did.

"Quiet today, aren't you!?" he mocked applying pressure directly on the cut he place on the middle of her spine, "You used to be so opinionated! Took me forever to break you of that!"

Jo tried to think of something other than that particular moment, but the pain kept bringing her back.

"I say we finish this up..." Moriarty commented grabbing the hunting knife and gently touching the tip to her lower back.

Jo thought he was done and thought to herself thank god.

Jim could almost feel the relief emulating from Jo then grabbed the blow torch he had used to light the cigarette, "I didn't say we were done...I just said let's finish this up."

Burning again, this time, it felt like hot metal, the same way the barrel of her gun felt after prolonged use.

Moriarty had heated his hunting knife up and pressed it hard into the skin on the sole of her right foot.

"Such a lovely smell...isn't it?" he asked heating the knife again, "Takes me back to those clean ups I had you do..."

Once the blade was good and hot, he pressed it hard against her other foot, not caring that some of her skin had burnt onto the blade, he had to clean it anyway.

When it seemed like the torture would never end, Moriarty put his tools away in the box and rolled Jo to her back again, "This was fun...we should do this again some time..."

Before leaving, Jim took her phone, dialed the cops, asked for an ambulance before hanging up and heading for the door, "Just remember, no matter how well Mycroft hides you...I always know where you are Joanna."

He dropped her phone and left, slamming the door behind him.

Jo lay there for what felt like an eternity before hearing panicked voices downstairs and the door being kicked in.

Lestrade was the first one into the room where he saw Joanna laying on the bed, motionless and covered in blood, "Oh dear god...GET THE EMT'S UP HERE NOW!"

He hurried over and checked her wrist for a pulse, it was faint, but she was still with him, "Ms. Taylor...hang on...we're here to help..."

The medics rushed in and immediately lifted her onto the gurney before covering her with a blanket and taking her to the ambulance.

* * *

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

"How is she doctor?" John asked once he arrived at the hospital shortly after receiving the call.

"She's stable. Whoever did this used a mild paralytic on her, not enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to keep her from fighting back," the doctor explained, adjusting her black rimmed glasses and handing him a file, "We counted almost 60 cuts, and over 15 burns. Whoever did this wanted her alive, but he wanted her to suffer."

John looked over the notes and grew pale, "Oh god..."

The doctor noticed him sway a bit and gently braced him, "Sir, she's in stable condition. She's still alive, that's what matters."

John regained himself, thanked the doctor, then walked over to Sherlock who was standing outside Joanna's room, looking in.

"Is she alright?" Sherlock asked once John was in ear shot.

"Define alright," John muttered looking at his friend, unconscious on the hospital bed, bandages covering her arms, torso, legs and feet.

"Do they know who did this?"

"No, Lestrade said whoever did it was remarkably clean. No prints, no shoe prints, nothing," John explained rubbing his forehead.

"Sherlock, John," Lestrade called out walking over to the two.

"Detective inspector Lestrade," John said holding his hand out, "Thank you for finding her when you did."

"We got an anonymous call leading us there. If we hadn't," Lestrade started, not bothering to finish his sentence.

"Detective, were there any traces or anything that could identify the attacker?" Sherlock asked, his gaze still unbreaking.

"No," the detective replied pulling a notepad out, "But whoever did this is one sick bastard..."

"Gentlemen," the doctor said breaking the focus, "She's awake now. You may see her if you like."

John thanked the doctor as Lestrade and Sherlock both walked into the room.

Jo was still a bit out of it due to the morphine, but she was sitting upright and breathing without assistance now.

"You alright?" Lestrade asked taking a spot beside the bed and sitting in the chair beside it.

"I've been better," she managed, her voice somewhat hoarse.

"Do you know who did this to you?" Sherlock asked bluntly.

"Sherlock!"

"No," Jo interjected looking from Lestrade to Sherlock, "I don't..."

Sherlock watched her face carefully while Lestrade made a note in his file.

"Is there anything you could tell us that would help with our search?" Lestrade asked looking up from his notes.

Jo hesitated a moment before shaking her head, "No...it's all a blur honestly..."

"Not surprising," Lestrade muttered before making a final note, "I've got to get down to the station and start our investigation. Anderson will be round to get some photos in a while."

The mention of the forensics worker almost made Jo's stomach turn but she said nothing and just gave him a simple nod.

"Right," Lestrade said before leaving and closing the door behind him.

"Jo," John said walking over and sitting beside the bed, "What in the hell happened?"

"I'm not sure," Jo lied gently rubbing her right temple, "I got home, talked to you briefly, then some guy in a mask drugged me and..."

"Who was it?" Sherlock asked again turning from the window to Joanna.

"I told you I don't know," Jo replied, a knot forming in her throat.

"Hm," Sherlock muttered before hearing footsteps headed their way.

Anderson walked in with a camera, his hair parted in the center as usual.

"Well if it isn't everyone's favorite psychopath," he commented looking at Sherlock.

"Highly functioning sociopath," Sherlock corrected before leaving the room.

John sighed and looked at Anderson, "Should I remove the bandages?"

"I'll get a nurse," Anderson replied snidely.

"I'd rather John did it," Jo said, an obvious bitterness in her voice, "Or is that a problem?"

It was obvious Anderson wasn't in the mood to argue, so he just sighed and turned away as John helped the young woman to sit up.

The blond haired man let out a slight sigh as he started removing the bandages from her arms, the small circular burns covering them almost like chicken pox.

The cool air hitting them made Jo stiffen up as she tried not to cry out.

After finishing with the last wrap on her left arm, John helped shift her to the edge of the bed and started removing the bandages from her torso.

The pain was starting to get to the young woman, her fingers digging into the edge of the bed.

"We're taking it slow for a reason Jo. If it gets to be too much just let me know," John explained seeing her starting to tremble.

"This is Afghanistan all over again," Jo managed, forcing a small chuckle.

"Well, in Afghanistan you weren't attacked by a psycho, just an enemy soldier," John retorted unwrapping the last from her torso.

Oh dear god, he thought seeing her back, but he said nothing.

Though the cuts were all stitched up now, John still felt his body tense up at the sight of so many wounds on one person.

Finally, he removed the bandages from her legs and feet before turning to Anderson, "There you go."

The black haired man turned back around and though he didn't show any emotion, it was obvious the sight of her cut and sliced skin made him ill.

He snapped a few shots of the injuries on her feet, legs, and arms before getting ready to shoot the torso.

John had to help Jo lift her arms for the shot, her body trembling in pain.

Anderson then walked to the other side of the bed, "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Jo asked trying to remain still.

"You don't want to know," John whispered to her bracing her shoulders gently as she started to lean forward.

Anderson shot a few more photos before gathering his stuff and heading for the door.

Just before he left, the pale man looked to John, "I'd be careful around him if I were you..."

Once he was gone, John began to re-bandage Jo's wounds.

"What did he mean just now?" Jo asked clenching her fists a bit as the bandage touched the cuts.

"You know...him and Donovan don't like Sherlock very much..." John replied finishing her right leg and starting on the left.

As he shifted, Jo managed to catch a glimpse of her back in the reflection of the windows, "Oh my..."

"What?" John asked before he noticed the reflection, "Oh god...Jo, it's nothing...just the ramblings of some nut job..."

"John...psycho's don't carve 'I'm coming,Sherlock' into their victims," Jo managed as she tried to keep her composure, her throat growing tighter with each passing moment.

"Jo! Jo!" John snapped gently holding her shoulders, "Listen, this was an unfortunate case of the wrong place at the wrong time. This could have just as easily happened to your neighbor..."

John managed to snap Jo out of her panicked state, "Y-You're right...Thanks..."

When he was sure she was alright, John finished bandaging her and gently helped her back into the bed, "Listen, Sherlock and I have to go talk to Lestrade at the station but my mobile will be on the whole time. Ok?"

"Yeah...thank you, John, she replied as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Once he was gone, Jo forced herself into a sitting position before grabbing her mobile off the table beside her.

There were several messages, all of them from Mycroft, making jo a bit irate, especially after she told him she had been followed.

"I suppose those are irrelevant now."

Looking up, Jo saw her boss standing in the doorway looking melancholy, "No offense sir, but I told you he would find me."

Mycroft sighed and closed the door behind him before walking over and sitting beside the hospital bed, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you..."

"Honestly sir...I probably wouldn't have believed me," Jo said with a defeated sigh.

"I want you to know...we've rearranged your living status," Mycroft explained looking at her bandages, "Your flat isn't safe any longer."

"Oh? And where am I staying now sir?"

"Well, I spoke to John about you staying with me, temporarily of course," Mycroft said crossing his left leg over his right, "But he insisted that you stay with him. Apparently Mrs. Hudson has a spare room on the ground floor she's willing to let you use."

Jo looked relieved and disappointed at the same time, "I see, thank you sir."

Mycroft glanced out the window to ensure no one was in the hall before taking her hand firmly in his, "I am so sorry...I shouldn't have let this happen..."

"Whether you let it or not...he still would have found me," Jo replied squeezing his hand lovingly, "It was only a matter of time..."

Mycroft quickly got up, closed the blinds and walked back to Joanna, kissing her lightly on the forehead, "I know, I should have done more though..."

Jo felt a few tears roll down her cheek as she kissed him on the lips, "You've done more than I could possibly ask for...after Harry left...and then him...you've done more than I could possibly ask of anyone...And I would never ask any more of you..."

The man nodded in reply but said nothing as he sat back down.

"Mycroft," Jo said, placing a hand on his lap, "Don't start blaming yourself..."

He couldn't help but smile, it was rare she used his name anymore, simply because of work, "Alright...but only because you asked..."

Jo forced a smile before finally letting go of him, "You'd better get going...people may start getting suspicious."

Mycroft stood up and sighed, "I'll be in touch then."

"You do that," Jo said with a smile as she watched him leave.

Once he was gone a nurse came in and gave her a dose of morphine for the pain, causing Jo to fade off into sleep.

* * *

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Jo woke up and turned to see something on her nightstand.

Her vision was somewhat blurry so she rubbed them and blinked a few times.

After her eyesight cleared, Jo looked again and saw that it was an apple.

She wanted to think nothing of it and picked it up only to find an 'I.O.U' carved into the side.

"Nurse! Nurse!" she called out frantically as she pushed the call button.

The nurse hurried in, "What is ma'am?"

"Who left this here!?" Jo demanded holding the apple up, a look of panic on her face.

"Oh, your brother," the nurse explained smiling a bit, "You were out cold when he stopped by so he left it there for you."

Jo could feel her throat tightening, _Remember...no matter how well Mycroft hides you, I will always be able to find you._

"Is everything alright?" the nurse asked looking concerned.

"Yeah, except," Jo muttered sitting up and trying to stand, "I don't have a brother."

The nurse ran over and stopped her, "Don't stand. The burns on your feet are too sever..."

Apparently the morphine had done a rather good job because Jo couldn't feel the pain in her feet anymore, not even when she bumped her right foot against the bed.

"Nurse," a woman said looking in the door, "She's being discharged. Her friend is here to pick her up."

"Thank you doctor," the nurse said looking at Jo, "Let's get your bandages changed real fast then."

Jo breathed a sigh of relief, she always hated hospitals, they always made her nervous.

After the bandages were changed, the nurse went into the hall and called for Jo's friend to come in.

Jo looked, almost expecting Jim to be there waiting for her, but much to her surprise, it was John, "Thank god, I can't take another moment in this damned place."

"Can't say I blame you. Oh, Mycroft brought these round for you yesterday," John replied handing her a bag, "Said you'd need them."

After looking in the bag, Jo scoffed a bit, "Sometimes I think he's more of a worrying mother than an employer..."

Inside was a button down short sleeved purple shirt and a black knee length skirt, didn't really surprise her, it was always his favorite outfit.

John helped her to get dressed before helping her off the bed into a wheel chair that had been set aside by the nurse.

"Thank you John," Jo said as John began wheeling her out.

"Don't worry about it," John replied stopping by the front desk and signing some paper work.

"No, really. You've done so much for me, especially with Anderson last night..." Jo replied trying not to get ill at the thought of that vile man, "You're the best friend I have John."

As the nurse behind the desk handed John a paper bag with some pill bottles in it, the blond haired man hesitated a moment, "You're welcome..."

He set the bag on her lap and wheeled her out to the cab that was waiting.

Jo winced slightly as he helped her shift to the seat of the cab before folding the wheel chair up and putting it in the truck.

"221B Baker street please," John told the cabby as he got in before leaning back in his seat, "So, how'd you sleep?"

"Like hell," Jo commented rubbing her eyes, "If it weren't for the morphine, I wouldn't have slept a wink."

"Ah..." John said nodding a bit, "Makes sense...How...how's that pain?'

"Not bad...morphine's still in my system though," Jo replied with a small smile.

As they waited, Jo went to reach for her smokes when she remembered she was out, and there was no smoking allowed inside of cabs anymore.

John saw her before sighing, "I'll get you some..."

"Don't. You've already done a lot," Jo commented trying to ignore the craving in the back of her mind, "I'll just steal a few from Sherlock. He owes me anyway."

Hearing this, John couldn't help but laugh a bit, "You just met the guy, and you're already acting like long lost siblings."

"Oh please don't," Jo replied as the cab pulled to a stop in front of the flat, "I hate that man enough as it is..."

John smiled to himself as he got out and pulled her chair out of the back before opening the door for her, "Well, trust me, he's not to thrilled about you either."

This made Jo smile to herself a bit as John helped her out of the car into the chair, "I see...Not all that surprising though, considering his brother made me the new babysitter."

After he payed the cabby, John pushed Jo to the door and wheeled her in where Mrs. Hudson was waiting, "Hello John."

"Hello Mrs. Hudson," John said smiling at the older woman, "This is Joanna. She'll be staying with us for a while."

"Nice to meet you ma'am," Jo said gently shaking her hand.

"You as well. Sorry to hear about the..." Mrs. Hudson started before stopping herself mid sentence.

Jo smiled a bit and shook her head, "Don't worry about it. Doctors say I should be fine in a couple weeks."

Mrs. Hudson sighed as she forced a smile, "I'll go make us some tea."

Once she was gone, John looked at Jo, "Your room is just down the hall beside Mrs. Hudson's room."

"You really didn't have to do this," Jo commented smiling sheepishly at her friend, "Mycroft had a flat set up for me already."

"No, no. You're staying with us until we get you back on your feet," John snapped wheeling her to the spare room, "I don't trust government doctors."

"God, still as stubborn as ever," Jo muttered as they went down the hall, "How DOES Sherlock handle that?"

"W-what do you mean?" John asked as he opened the bedroom door and pushing her in.

"Aren't you two...you know..."

"What!? No!" John replied hastily, a light blush coming to his cheeks, "I am not gay!"

Hearing this, Jo smiled to herself, "Really? The way you two acted yesterday when I came over almost made it seem as-"

"I am not gay!" John snapped turning away from Joanna.

Jo laughed at his reaction, the first time she laughed in a long time.

After a moment of awkward silence, John turned to Jo, "Right, well, need anything?"  
Looking around, Jo let out a sigh, "Would it be too much trouble to ask you to help me upstairs?"

John only hesitated a moment before nodding, "Yeah, no problem."

It was a trick, getting Jo up the stairs, but once John got her up there it only took him half a minute to get her chair up.

"Seems you're doing better."

"That'd be the Vicodin," Jo replied looking to Sherlock, "Before you ask no you can't have any."

Sherlock sighed and walked over, handing her a pack of smokes, "Do you know who did this yet?"

Jo gratefully took the pack and opened it up, placing one between her lips, "No...I don't..."

John sighed and watched the two, hoping a fight wouldn't break out between them.

"You can tell me the truth any minute now," Sherlock snapped as he lit her smoke for her.

After taking a drag, Jo let out a sigh, "When'd you figure it out?"

"The first day at the hospital. When you denied knowledge of your attacker," he explained walking to the window, "Your pupils dilated and her heart rate increased."

Jo took another drag from her smoke before looking at Sherlock again, "What makes you think it wasn't the pain killers? Morphine has a tendancy to alter the way the body reacts to certain situations."

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Sherlock picked up a file from his desk and handed it to her, "Oh?"

Leaving the cigarette between her lips, Jo took the file and opened it up.

Inside were the photos Anderson had taken at the hospital, the one of her back sat on top of the stack.

Judging by her reaction, Sherlock knew he would get his answers now.

The initial cuts were jagged but spelled out the same thing Jo saw in the window at the hospital, 'I'm Coming, Sherlock', while the rest were just slices along her pale skin.

"John," Sherlock said looking to his flatmate, "I forgot we need some groceries. Milk, eggs, the basics."

John was about to protest when Jo just looked at him and nodded, "Alright, I'll be back soon..."

Once he was gone, Jo took a deep drag of her smoke, "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Sherlock said sitting in his chair by the fireplace.

Jo managed to move herself beside where Sherlock was seated, "His name is James. James Moriarty..."

That name peaked the detective's attention, though he didn't show it.

Flicking her ashes into the ashtray, Jo looked from Sherlock to the fireplace, "After I was discharged from the army, I was desperate for work. I had almost no money, nowhere to go, then he showed up. He offered to help me get back on my feet in exchange for my military experience. I accepted without a second though, after all, my wife had left me, what did I have to work for? It wasn't until he gave me my first job that I realized what I had gotten into."

Sherlock said nothing as he took a smoke from the pack Jo had on her lap and lit it.

"Needless to say, I didn't want to continue. James wouldn't let me leave though. At first, he held Harriet's in front of me. That was before I got over her though. With her life in the balance," Jo explained feeling a tightening in her chest, "I had to keep working for him. It got to the point though...I didn't care anymore. I purposely tried to make him angry, to make him kill me. That's when Mycroft found me. At first, he threatened me with life in prison until he found out about what I knew. It was simple, I work for your brother, Moriarty never finds me. That was all fine and dandy until...well...he told me that no matter how well Mycroft kept me hidden...he'd find me. Then he told me to deliver a message to you. I didn't know what he meant until the photos."

Her hands were shaking, Sherlock saw this but made no move to comfort her, "So, this is Moriarty's way of talking to me?"

"Sherlock...I don't think you should go after him. This man will stop at NOTHING to get what he wants," Jo said as she recognized the look in his eyes.

"And you couldn't tell me this why?"

John's voice ringing out startled Jo a bit, causing her to turn her head swiftly, "John!"

"You didn't tell me that some psycho had a gun pointed at my sister every day?" John asked looking hurt, "Why?"

"He would've killed her if I did!" Jo snapped dropping her cigarette to the floor, "I wanted to tell you John. I wanted to tell you to take her far away from here, but he would have pulled that damned trigger."

John sighed, rubbing his forehead as he tried to process the information.

"John-" Jo was cut off by her friend storming out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.

Sherlock came out of his daze and stood up, "I take it Mycroft is keeping tabs on you right now?"

"Yeah. Said he didn't want me out of his sight till I recovered."

This made Sherlock a bit uncomfortable but he did his best not to show it, "Are you still on the job?"

"Not babysitting. He wants me to assist you in any way possible. Trying to keep me busy," Jo muttered sounding mildly irate.

"We'll see about that," Sherlock commented looking her over.

* * *

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Jo awoke on the couch in Sherlock's living room.

It was then that she remembered him telling her to sleep there since John wasn't home to help her back to her room.

With a sigh, Jo sat up and carefully shifted herself to the wheelchair, a searing pain shot up her legs as the burns on her feet hit the couch.

Jo managed to stifle a cry, biting her lip as she let the pain pass.

Though she was sure everyone was still asleep since it was only six thirty, Jo worked her way to the kitchen to make some coffee.

Luckily, it seemed that Sherlock never actually put anything away so the can of coffee was on the counter beside the filters.

After managing to set the machine up, Jo noticed her pill bottles on the table meaning John had most likely come home while she was asleep.

According to the prescriptions, she need to take one Vicodin and one antibiotic three times a day.

Jo was never a big fan of pills, but she'd rather down the awful things than want to scream every time she took a breath.

"Seems you're getting along alright," John commented as he walked into the kitchen to the coffee pot.

"You really think I'm gonna depend on someone to do everything for me," Jo asked swallowing the pills and wheeling herself to the other side of the table to make room for John.

"Fair enough," John said with a sigh as he poured to cups of coffee, "You always were pretty independent..."

Jo accepted the coffee from him before letting out a sigh, "About last night...John, I really did want to tell you..."

"I know. I blew things out of proportion. You were protecting Harry," John interrupted sitting down at the table beside Jo, "It was just a lot to take in all at once."

After taking a sip of coffee, Jo smiled lightly and nodded, "I understand. I take it we're alright again?"

"Yeah."

"So, when does the bright ray of sunshine usually wake up?" Jo asked motioning to Sherlock's bedroom door.

"Whenever he bloody feels like it. I can never seem to get that man to wake up on a normal schedule," John replied with a chuckle at her joke.

"You know I can hear you both?"

"Speak of the devil," Jo commented as Sherlock walked into the living room, looking like someone out of a zombie movie.

John smirked a bit but just looked at Sherlock, "Sorry, had to make sure she took her meds..."

"You could do it quietly," Sherlock snapped going straight for the coffee pot and taking the last cups worth.

"I'm sorry your HIGHNESS," Jo replied taking another sip of her coffee.

Sherlock cast a sideways glance at the woman, "Any plans today?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not staying here all day though," Jo remarked setting her cup on the table and wheeling herself over to where the news paper of the day had been set, "I think there's a demo going on at the museum today..."

Sherlock muttered something but payed no attention as he began randomly going through his books.

"Right...Want me to help you downstairs?" John asked seeing Sherlock start to tune himself out.

"That'd be great," Jo commented pushing herself to the stairs before John gently scooped her up and carried her down the stairs and setting her on a chair that was set behind the door before grabbing the chair.

"It's a good thing you never gain any weight," John commented helping her back into her chair and helping her outside.

"Not sure if I should be offended or take that as a compliment," Jo replied as she waited for John to lock the door, "What are your plans?"

"I'm going to the shop. I've gotta get some groceries," John explained walking over to her, "Care to come along?"

Jo was about to say yes when she saw a black car pull up, "I'd love to...but duty calls."

John saw the black car and sighed, he knew that car all too well, "Right. Well, I have my mobile. Ca-"

"Call if I need anything right? Will do mummy," Jo said jokingly before wheeling herself over to the car.

"Right smart ass! I'll remember that," John called out as he watched her lift herself from the chair into the car.

The driver, a tall brown haired man, got out and folded the wheelchair up before putting it in the trunk.

Inside the car, Jo smiled to see Mycroft sitting there with the same smile on his face as usual, "Hello sweety."

"Glad to see you on your feet," Mycroft said looking her over, "In a manner of speaking of course."

Jo laughed slightly and took his hand, "I know what you meant love. I have to admit...it may not have been a bad idea to have me stay with Sherlock and John after all."

"Oh? Why's that," Mycroft asked brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"He absolutely loathes me being there."

Hearing this Mycroft let out a slight laugh, "I see. Perhaps it will do that man some good then."

"I do have to tell you something though...he asked me about Moriarty," Jo commented turning serious.

"What did you tell him?" Mycroft asked sounding concerned as he gently squeezed Jo's hand.

"He go me into telling him everything," Jo replied trying to remain calm, "That man wouldn't let up until I told him everything."

Mycroft sighed as he heard this, he knew Sherlock wouldn't leave well enough alone, "I'm sorry. I should've been stricter when telling John where you were staying..."

"He was going to hear it sooner or later," the secretary said sounding a bit shaken, "I saw the photos the yard took though. You know he won't stop until he has your brother..."

"I know. I shouldn't have assigned you to this job," the red headed politician said sounding guilty.

"Mycroft," Jo said shifting herself carefully to face her lover, "I warned you, do not start blaming yourself for this. It was my fault that I took that damned job. At the same time though...if I hadn't taken that last contract I would never have met you."

Mycroft sighed as he felt Jo place a bandaged hand on his cheek, "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry love."

Jo smiled and kissed him gently on the lips, "Don't worry lover, things will sort themselves out in due time."

_"Your next assignment is in the file on the nightstand."_

_James Moriarty stood up from a four post queen sized bed, his clothes scattered on the floor amongst Joanna's as well. _

_Jo was laying on the bed, face down, a look of shame on her face as a few tears ran down her cheek. _

_"Did you hear me?" Jim asked not even bothering to look at his sex toy as he got dressed. _

_"Yes," she said quietly, sitting up, pulling the sheet over her naked form._

_Along her back were several scratches as well as finger shaped bruises around her hips, a sign that Moriarty thoroughly enjoyed his evening this time. _

_"Excuse me?" Jim asked turning to her, his eyebrow raised slightly._

_"Yes sir," Jo corrected reaching for the file on the stand beside the bed._

_She flipped through the papers before coming across the photo of her latest target, "Sir, this man..." _

_"Yes, he's a thorn in my side," Jim commented as he tied his tie, "Be a good pet and be rid of him." _

_"I don't think I can do this job," Jo said as she confirmed the name, Mycroft Holmes. _

_Hearing this, Jim walked over to her and grabbed the woman's throat, "Excuse me?" _

_He wasn't applying pressure but Jo already felt her breathing getting shorter, "Sir, this is one job I am not sure I can handle." _

_Jim laughed before squeezing her throat tight and slamming her against the headboard, "You will do this job! Or your beloved Harry will receive a bullet to the brain!" _

_Jo managed a nod as she felt herself getting lightheaded. _

_He released her and smirked, brushing her cheek gently, "That's a good girl...who do you belong to?"_

_Jo rubbed her throat gently before looking up at her boss, "You sir...I belong to...James Moriarty..."_

_"And don't you forget it," Jim said smiling at her like a child would at his mother, "Happy hunting."_

* * *

_On top of the roof, Jo sat with a L115A3 Long Range Rifle, watching the address supplied to her in the file, it appeared to be his residence._

_She hadn't bothered with a tripod or a stabilizer, they were always a waste of time in her opinion._

_After a couple of hours, Jo saw her target, Mycroft, sitting in his living room with a paper. _

_**Remember your training Jo...deep breaths...count your hear beats...slow breaths..**.she thought bracing her rifle and staring down her scope._

_As she saw him in her scope though, Jo hesitated, something about him kept her from taking the shot. _

_After a moment, she tried realigning the shot, only to panic and misfire, shooting past him into the mantle and alerting him to her presence. _

_Swearing under her breath, Jo quickly dismantled her rifle, packed it up, and made a break for the fire escape. _

_She had made it to the sewer before the bodyguards were able to find her, but that was soon the be the least of her worries. _

_Back at Jim's place, Jo was now on the floor, beaten and battered while her employer stood over her, a look of utter anger and disappointment on his face, "You couldn't do this ONE thing right..." _

_"I'm sorry sir, one of the guards flashed his light and threw off my aim," Jo lied trying to sit up only to receive a swift kick in the ribs. _

_"I don't care! I brought you on because of your incredible abilities and you just blew your chance!" Jim cried out kneeling down and pulling her hair to ensure she was looking at him, "All it takes is one call...and Seb pulls that trigger..." _

_Hearing this, Jo tried to lash out only to get punched in the face._

_"Did I give you permission to act?" Jim hissed leaning in close and biting down on her knife wound scar, blood running down her skin. _

_Seeing her defeated, Jim let go of her hair and stood up, "Who do you belong to?" _

_Jo tried to sit up, her body trembling as she pushed herself. _

_"Answer me!" Jim snapped growing impatient. _

_"No one," Jo finally managed glaring up at him as she managed to get onto her knees._

_"What was that?" Jim asked angrilly, despising the look in her eyes._

_"No one! I don't belong to anyone! I am done with your jobs and I'm done with you!" Jo cried out grabbing the nine mil he kept on the nightstand and aiming it at his head. _

_"Oooh! Kitty's got claws now!" Jim commented watching her stand up. _

_Jo managed to get up, just barely able to remain standing, "Yeah, and I'm not afraid to fight back."_

"Jo?"

Mycroft looked to Jo who had seemed to slowly doze off, he assumed because of the pain killers.

Jo awoke with a start and looked at Mycroft, "Sorry love, the Vicodin is taking its toll on me."

"Quite alright," Mycroft said getting out of the car.

Much to her surprise, they had arrived at Mycroft's home.

"Let's get you inside," her lover said opening the door and offering to help her into the wheel chair.

Jo simply nodded and looped her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the car into the chair before he wheeled her inside.

* * *

To be continued...


End file.
